*Toby's POV*

"HE WHAT???" Dylan shouted on the other end of the line the next morning. I'd called him after he'd texted me, because I wanted to tell him what had happened. I felt bad hiding things from Dylan, even though I knew he'd be pissed. And I was right. "I'LL BEAT HIS FUCKING FACE-"
"Dylan, it's okay!" I tried to keep quiet, to keep from waking up Chris. "He just pushed me around a little, but I'm really fine. He isn't going to do it anymore. He's my friend now."
"Toby, friends don't beat the shit out of each other." Dylan huffed on the other end of the line, still sounding mad.
"I know, Dyl, but his dad hits him. Give him a break. He's not that bad of a guy."
The phone was silent for a minute, and I thought he'd hung up, until he spoke.
"Fine, but if he so much as touches you again, I'll be over there on the first flight, and I will kick his ass." Dylan glowered, sounding darkly ominous.
"Don't worry," I tried extra hard to sound happy and reassuring. "Everything's different now. I promise, he won't do anything."
Dylan sighed. "Alright. But if he does..."
"I'll call you," I said, already knowing what he would say. Thankfully, I heard Dylan chuckle. I glanced over at the alarm clock. 7:03. "Oh shit, I'm gonna be late."
"Okay, well go ahead and get to school. Text me later so I know whether or not I have to crack a skull." Dylan meant it to sound funny, but for some reason, it sent chills down my spine. "Toby? I was just kidding..." Now he sounded guilty. Fuuuck.
"No, I know," I chuckled. "I was just putting my eyeliner on."
"Oh, okay," He said, perking up a bit. "I thought I said something wrong or something."
"What? No, everything's fine," I found myself smiling stupidly, and realized I really needed to start getting ready. I flung aside the blanket and jumped up, only to end up falling on the ground, biting my lip to keep from crying out as the throbbing pain hit me. As much as I tried to stop it, I felt a whimper sneak its way out.
"Toby? Are you okay?" Dylan asked right away, worry thick in his voice.
"U-Um, yeah." I said, easing my way up and trying to sound as normal as I could, as I quickly thought up a reasonable sounding lie. "I just stepped on a Lego."
Ugh, this already isn't fun.
*Skylar's POV*

I ran my left hand under the tap in the boy's restroom at school, then gingerly put my still wet hand on my upper right bicep. It hurt at first, but soon the cool water did its job, soothing the ache of the forming bruise. One of the many that my dad gave me for coming home late last night, though I knew he'd rather I not come home at all. My ribs were still pretty tender, and it hurt to breathe, but it's been worse. I splash my face with the still cool water, then jerk my hoodie sleeve back down as I hear the bathroom door open. I wiped my face, then walked out, squeezing past the nerdy kid who'd come in.
I wasn't ten feet from the bathroom door when I could see the school entrance from down the hall, and the group of my "friends", about to pounce on Toby.
"Hey, fag."
"Aww, looks like someone finally put you in your place."
"Limping from getting it too hard from your boyfriend last night?"
They were jeering, as I shoved past them and walked right up to Toby. He looked up at me nervously, and I could practically see the fear. I shuddered, imagining that I must look something like that when my dad starts his shit.
"Hey Sky, you got first dibs at the faggot," Kurt sneered, but I ignored him.
"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, not sure how bad I'd hurt him last night. He nodded sheepishly, but I noticed he was definitely favoring a leg. "Come on, we can stop by the nurse's station before class."
He smiled, and I saw relief wash over him as I draped one of his thin little arms around my neck and helped him up the stairs.
"Rollins, what are you doing with the hom-" Aiden started, but I cut him off by jabbing his chest hard with my index finger, making him stagger back a bit.
"His name is Toby, not homo, or fag, and we're done treating him like shit. He's my friend, so fuck off."
I don't think I've ever seen a group as speechless and shocked as they were as we walked by, and I just had to smile at that.

We got out of the nurse's with a bag of ice, orders to take it easy, and a late pass. It was already nearing the end of first period, though, so we were going to take as long as we had to, trying to stretch out the walk to keep from having the awkward walk of lateness in front of the class.
"Thanks." Toby said randomly, earning a confused look from me, which he laughed at. "For standing up to your friends for me."
I chuckled, making Toby look at me, puzzled. "Friends," I said, making air quotes around the word. "None of those dicks give a shit about each other. All they care about is looking cool."
Toby frowned, and I wondered what he was thinking about. The bell rang then, and soon the hallways were flooded with people. We had the same class next, so I made sure to stay right with him, since both our names were on the pass. I was watching him as we walked, so I saw the look of shock hit his face right before I was shoved to the ground.
In seconds, it was all over, though, and I saw Kurt running off, smirking, from where I was on my stomach on the ground. Toby helped me up, but the pain in my ribs was now nearing unbearable, and threatened to take me right back down. This time I leaned on him as he led me to the bathroom. He led me over to the sink, where I sat on the rim of the counter, finally taking the pressure off my aching abdomen.
"What's wrong?" Toby asked, looking concerned, his blue/grey eyes wide.
I didn't waste the breath, but pulled my shirt up, and closed my eyes. I heard him let out a small gasp, which was kind of cute and girly, but I kept from smiling. I opened my eyes, both from suppressing the fresh memory and from wondering how bad it looked. I turned around a little, and just saw the edge of the massive bruise on my side. Already it was a deep black and purple, and I admit, it looked really bad. He instantly handed me his ice pack, and I gently pressed it against the bruised skin, wincing.
"Who...?" Toby asked, but I could tell he already knew.
"My dad," I murmured, again closing my eyes. This time, I let the memories come rushing back.
I snuck in the back door, sure he must be asleep by now. By the time I got back from the meeting with Toby in the park, it was 12:45, and the old man was always so drunk he'd never stay up past 11 anyway. I'd brought my key, which was a good call, because he'd locked me out. I'm guessing right after I left for school that morning. I silently unlocked the door, slipped in, and locked it back. I padded my way up the stairs, but as soon as I got to the top of the flight of stairs, I was shoved backwards, making me fall right back down them.
"Where the hell have you been?!" He shouted, then the upstairs hallway light flickered on, revealing him, holding a mostly empty bottle of Jack, which he promptly chucked at me, making it shatter and the shards of glass and puddle of Jack surround me.
I crawled away from the steps, my hands in my hoodie, trying to shield them from the glass, as he drunkenly staggered down them. "Well?!"
"I was working on a project," I'd said, getting to my feet. Which wasn't really a lie, but try telling my dad anything when he's this drunk and he'll swear up and down you're lying.
"You lying stack of shit!" He barked, slapping me in the face and then shoving me against the wall. "You were with those friends of yours, weren't you?"
"No, I-" He slammed my head into the wall behind me, making me see stars and fall to the ground. He kicked me in the side while I was down, once, twice, three times. I swore I heard a loud snap, but he didn't let up. He grabbed me by my upper arms roughly, holding me pinned tight against the wall. "Your mother would be so disappointed," he grumbled, then dropped me back to the ground as he stumbled back up the stairs. He'd taken it surprisingly easy this night, but Toby's words had echoed through my head while I sat there, crying.
"Nobody deserves to be beaten up for no reason."
"Skylar?" Toby's worried voice rang out, snapping me from the flashback.
He was staring at me in shock, and even I was surprised to find my face wet with tears. Toby hugged me lightly, not putting pressure on the bruise, but I wrapped my arms around him tightly, ignoring the pain, as I cried against him.
After a few minutes, I managed to pull myself together and I sniffled, pulling away from him. "Thanks, Toby."
I was surprised to see a different look on his face; one I'd only seen once, at McDonald's. A look of fierce determination, though this time he wasn't smiling. I looked at him questioningly.
"You don't have to put up with this. Not anymore." He said.
"Toby, what are you talking about? He's my dad. I live there."
"Not anymore. You're gonna come stay with me."